


like you're heaven sent

by g0ryllama



Series: Murrmin ;) [3]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drugs, Hand Jobs, High Sex, M/M, More Moomin smut, Smoking, cause I can't be stopped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 11:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18964621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/g0ryllama/pseuds/g0ryllama
Summary: Snufkin brings home a mysterious plant from his Winter travels. He and Moomin give it a go.





	like you're heaven sent

**Author's Note:**

> Okay the usual stuff guys. Don't like, don't read! I can't be bothered with another long disclaimer, but seriously please don't read this if you know you won't like it.
> 
> That's all! Have fun, and remember, be gay do crime!

The arrival of Spring meant the arrival of Snufkin, which is absolutely what made this season so special.

Moomin has been on tenterhooks ever since he awoke from hibernation two mornings ago, the snow on the ground beginning to melt away.

Last Winter, something changed between the two of them, after a very intense argument left them with too much tension to let off in any other way. Moomin can still taste Snufkin's mouth on his tongue, instantly intoxicating and addicting. Murmik kisses were a lot messier than moomin kisses, he remembers with a slight sigh, staring out of the kitchen window.

Every waking second, he could barely breathe, with too much energy and excitement, all for Snufkin.

He wonders if Snufkin feels the same way.

He hopes so.

Another sigh, the bridge woefully bereft of a green-clad mumrik. Little My mocks him, sighing with a tone much more dramatic than his own, but Moomin ignores her, dragging his feet out to the veranda.

He'll be back soon, he knows.

* * *

After turning over for the seventeenth time in bed, Moomin sits up, a frown on his face. "Honestly Moomintroll, you can manage a little longer without him." He didn't sound confident though.

Careful not to wake anyone, he pads down the stairs, wincing every time they creak but luckily for him the others sleep rather deeply.

The full moon shines brightly, illuminating his path as he wanders across the bridge, fully prepared to sit and wait as long as it takes.

That is, until he spots the tent set up at Snufkin's campsite, the bag in front of it, the mumrik wearing his old, green clothes that are so familiar it almost aches to see.

"Snufkin!" Moomin exclaims, rushing over and grinning when Snufkin turns, bright eyed and blushing gently, almost like he was caught doing something he shouldn't have been. It was incredibly cute.

"Moomin, what are you doing awake?" The mumrik asks, hands on his hips as Moomin stops in front of him (Moomin totally notices how he's slightly taller than Snufkin now, he must've had a growth spurt during the Winter).

"I couldn't sleep- and it's a good thing I couldn't!" He sounds out of breath, and he wonders if he should've waited to catch his breath first. "I missed you so much."

Snufkin smiles wide, eyes crinkling a little as he reaches up to press a quick kiss to Moomin's cheek, shocking the troll into stillness. "Missed you too," he hums, taking his paws and his bag before pulling him into his tent.

This was where they'd argued (over something completely stupid, Moomin is still embarrassed to think of what he'd said) before Winter, harsh whispers and hoarse sobs before a desperate (and confusing) clash of lips. Now though, the atmosphere is a lot different; they've both had time to come to the same conclusion, which it appears they have, if Snufkin's willingness to be so close says anything at all.

"I was going to come and wake you once I had everything set up, but you've saved me that particular job." He explains, zipping up the opening and pulling a small fabric bag out of his pack, along with his pipe.

Tilting his head slightly, Moomin asks what it is, watching Snufkin tip some of the crumpled up plant into the bowl, a wicked glint in his eyes. "This is a herb I found somewhere in the far south," he begins, striking a match, the flame dancing in his eyes. "It makes you feel all fuzzy and calm."

Entranced, he watches as his friend sets the plant alight, letting the smoke collect a little before inhaling it, closing his eyes and holding it deep before blowing it back out. "Here, try some?"

Not even a little bit apprehensive (he trusts Snufkin wholly), Moomin takes the pipe, copying his movements and inhaling the smoke. It feels strange in his throat and lungs; hot and thick, stifling, but he manages to hold it before blowing it out, resisting the urge to cough.

"Good, it should start taking effect soon," Snufkin mutters, shuffling closer with a question in his eyes. Big, beautiful, chocolate eyes. "Moomintroll…?"

He nods slowly, watching as Snufkin takes another puff, holding it in, before he leans in close and presses their lips together (and Moomin thinks, distantly, about how he'll never get used to it), swapping their breath so the smoke fills Moomin's mouth  _ from _ Snufkin's.

Somehow, it tastes a lot sweeter and intoxicating this way.

They pull apart, and the smoke pours from Moomin's mouth, the two of them staring at each other with heated gazes. "That was better," Moomin offers quietly, nudging his snout against Snufkin's cheek and nose. "Much better than the pipe."

He feels more than sees Snufkin shiver, the gentle vibration endearing. "Mmh, I agree…"

They continue swapping the pipe and shotgunning (as Snufkin calls it), and the more they take in, the harder it gets for Moomin to not cough, but Snufkin tells him that just means he's doing it better.

It feels like minutes later that they end up tangled together on the bedroll, but Moomin for the life of him can't remember how he ended up with his paw down the front of Snufkin's trousers, mind too not-bothered with the technicalities of getting his best friend off to care about how they got there.

There's a steady vibration from Snufkin's body that feels strange against Moomin's fur, but he must be doing something right, the way Snufkin's back arches as he slides his paw up and down his cock almost painful looking, soft breathy moans interjected with small cries of  _ his _ name.

Everything feels too fast and too slow, the way Snufkin relaxes almost immediately when he cums the way Moomin feels; boneless and floating.

He pulls his paw out of Snufkin's trousers, staring at the sticky fluid in between his fingers before licking it off. Snufkin groans in disgust, rolling away from Moomin to take another hit, his coughing quiet. "You should probably go and wash your hand in the stream, instead."

"Nah, this is fine."

"Gross."

Moomin laughs, leaving the tent to wash his paws anyway just so Snufkin won't avoid him when they go to sleep. The water feels so different to normal, but he can't describe how, entranced by it, watching the moon and stars reflecting like spirits on the surface. Maybe he could capture them for Snufkin. But Snufkin doesn't like things being caught, so of course he wouldn't. It's what he deserves though, something nice, to show how much Moomin loves him.

Oh!

He runs back into the tent, shocking Snufkin who stumbles a little, the pipe empty and clean again. Shame.

"Snufkin!" He ignores the confusion on the other's face, mind buzzing too much, pushing his nose against Snufkin's and nuzzling. "A moomin kiss."

Snufkin freezes before laughing airily, his eyes half lidded and… Is he purring? Oh he's too much.

"Thank you, that's sweet."

Pleased, Moomin lays down on the bedroll, forgoing the blanket, content to listen to Snufkin's gentle purrs.

"Can I return the favour?" Snufkin asks, standing by Moomin's feet with an odd expression on his face.

Moomin nods, not really sure what he's agreeing to until Snufkin kneels on his hands and knees and crawls forward, eyes dark and purrs louder.

"You… Need to bring it out." Moomin explains when Snufkin questions where his cock is.

Whether it's the drugs or because it's Snufkin he doesn't know, but the feeling of his smaller, smoother hand (compared to his own, furry paw) gently gripping his dick sends him to another plane of existence, and now he understands Snufkin's painful looking writhing earlier.

Snufkin grins wide when Moomin gasps, mischief in his eyes when they catch each others' stares, leaning forward and licking a stripe up the length of him.

His tongue feels oddly rough, but wet, warm, like a smooth sandpaper covered in honey, or maybe lemonade, or a mixture of both? Either way it feels like the strangest pleasure he's ever experienced, claws sliding out without his permission and tearing up the bedroll (he knows Snufkin won't mind, his lack of care about material objects useful right now).

"Snufkin-" he's cut off with a cry when the mumrik takes him into his mouth, the warmth wrapping around him and it almost feels too much. "I thought- oh- it was gross?"

Shrugging, Snufkin sucks hard and normally Moomin would be embarrassed at releasing so soon, but everything just feels so much more, the sucking like a final killing strike, shoving him over the edge.

His orgasm feels light and heavy at the same time, liquifying his bones and turning his muscles to jelly.

Snufkin drags his tongue up the underside, before swallowing his cum, and only the thought of how weird it'd be to taste himself on Snufkin's tongue stops him from pulling him into another kiss, insanely turned on by it.

"It's only gross because it isn't yours." He explains, a grin on his mouth as he shuffles up and rests his head on Moomin's chest.

Moomin can't wait til the next time they indulge in some of that strange plant Snufkin brought back.

**Author's Note:**

> Yip yip!


End file.
